


Tortoise

by kirstenwritesthings



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16000991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirstenwritesthings/pseuds/kirstenwritesthings
Summary: Albert had learnt when his mother died, that tortoises had the right idea. They kept themselves protected, using the shell that they carried. Being in love with Race had been easy when it was easy to avoid. Now, when it stared him in the face every day, when Race got away with looking like that and flirting with strangers like it was nothing, it was almost impossible.





	Tortoise

Being in love with Race was easy for Albert, in a longing, distant sense. It was a feeling that usually rested in the back of his mind, and only reared its head when Race talked about the girl he hooked up with at a party, or when someone asked him if Race was still single. It was the kind of feeling that was easy to avoid, or to divert. He channeled his love for Race into being the very best friend that he could be. Loving Race was getting him a drink from Starbucks when Albert stopped by, or letting Race steal his beanies. Being in love with his best friend wasn’t a problem, until Race got hot.

Race was always attractive. For Albert, it was a fact as certain as the sunrise. But, when he picked track up again, in their junior year of high school, Race’s attractiveness compounded, and Albert felt like he might explode. Race’s skinny arms and legs were soon all calf and bicep, and his shoulders seemed to broaden. Still, it was easy enough for Albert to hold himself back, most of the time.

Over the years, he had developed an extensive list of coping mechanisms. He could remind himself of all that Race meant to him as a friend, and all that was at stake. He could mentally list all of the consequences that would result from jumping Race’s bones.

All of that went out the window when Jack and Katherine decided that it was time for a beach day.

It was, if Albert was being honest, an excellent idea. Their friend group was large and raucous, and the New York summer was scorching, so it made perfect sense for them to pile into cars and drive to the beach, for a day that could be straight out of a coming-of-age movie. And, it was fun, even when Albert had to yell at his friends to shut up while he drove, and even when Race plugged his phone into the AUX chord and played a playlist that seemed to consist entirely of Despacito, Africa and All Star. It was fun when he pulled into the lot and his friends tumbled out of his truck like it was the shittiest clown car ever. It was fun when they made their way along the boardwalk, buying ice cream and temporary tattoos and yelling at rigged arcade games. The day was wonderful, until Race decided that he couldn’t take the heat any longer, pulled off his shirt and dived into the ocean, all long legs and bare skin.

He waved some of the boys over from where they had set up beach towels and umbrellas, but Albert was content to stay on land, and watch from a distance. His mouth was dry at the very idea of Race’s washboard abs, and he figured that it was probably a better idea to stick out the coarse, rough sand, Anakin Skywalker be damned. Race was gorgeous enough from a distance. Albert didn’t know if he’d be able to handle him from up close.

He tried his best to keep his eyes off him and concentrate on the book that he’d found in JoJo’s backpack, but it wasn’t particularly effective. When they were younger, Race was all sharp bones and gangly limbs. Albert hadn’t realised before that day how well Race had grown into himself. Not just physically, although that was an upside. Gone was the bravado of the boy he’d grown up with. Over the years, Race had learnt to carry himself like his skin fit. Everything about him became more attractive, and every part of Albert ached.

He must have been staring, because, after too long a moment, Race caught his eye and winked. His smirk, familiar and teasing, made something in Albert’s chest hurt. Race had always been good-looking, but, now, he was all that Albert wanted.

—

Albert wasn’t avoiding Racer, not exactly. He was just… watching his own back. He had learnt when his mother died, that tortoises had the right idea. They kept themselves protected, using the shell that they carried. Whenever there was danger, they retreated. Albert had been around plenty dangerous situations. He’d gone with to bail his brothers out of jail after a night of drinking got out of hand. He’d broken into public pools with his friends. He’d protested for what he believed in, even when police weren’t on his side. He wasn’t scared of any of that, but the storm that Race carried in his eyes was a different kind of danger altogether.

Being in love with Race had been easy when it was easy to avoid. Now, when it stared him in the face every day, when Race got away with looking like that and flirting with strangers right in front of Albert’s face, it was almost impossible.

He didn’t see Race for a month after their beach day, and he’d tried his best not to call him, or send him stupid Snaps, or tag him in the dumb memes that they both liked. He wasn’t avoiding Racer, he was protecting himself. Ignoring his feelings hadn’t worked, so, his new strategy was to distance himself from the cause. It sucked, but it was short term pain, to protect him in the long term. He was retreating into his shell.

Davey’s Fourth of July party was the first time that Albert saw Race in weeks, and his heart still ached in his chest. Albert sat with Finch, on a blanket on the Jacobs’ lawn, watching fireworks paint the sky. He sympathised with the bright reds and wished his feelings could be more like them: sparkling, brilliant and bright, for just a few moments, before fading away altogether.

The fireworks were beautiful, but Albert’s eyes caught on Race, sitting next to Romeo in a terribly loose tank top. Albert stared at his best friend’s back, focusing on the way his shoulders shook when he laughed, and the way that the top clung to him when a breeze blew it against his body. He swallowed, shook his head, and got up to get another beer. He needed it.

The kitchen was empty, and Albert rested there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He was perched on the counter, staring at the ceiling and wondering how he would ever forget about someone who looked like that. He was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost jumped out of his skin when someone stepped into the kitchen and cleared their throat.

“Race, uh, hey,” Albert stuttered out.

“Hey, Albo, just the man I was lookin’ for!”

Race’s eyes were odd, and unreadable.

“What, um, did you need?”

“I just,” Race trailed off. “We’re good, right? I dunno, I just haven’t seen you in forever, and somethin’ just feels… weird between us, I guess.”

Albert cleared his throat uncomfortably and moved a little away from Race.

“Yeah, we, um, we’re great, like always. What could even be the problem, right? I just, I gotta go give this beer to Finch, so I’ll, uh.”

Albert made for the door, and Race grabbed onto his arm to stop him.

“See, Al, this is kind of what I mean. It just feels like you’re avoiding me, for some reason.”

“No, I,” Albert’s words were stuck in his throat and he looked around desperately for some kind of salvation, but his eyes caught instead on Race’s hand on his arm.

“And there’s that look again,” Race’s voice was low, and his eyes lit up.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Did you seriously think that I haven’t noticed?”

Albert’s heart beat so loudly that he was sure Race could hear it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do, and you just don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re absolutely right, Race. I don’t want to talk about it. All I want is to take Finch his drink and leave.”

He wrenched his arm away, and turned to go, almost missing Race’s next words.

“That’s not what you want. I know what you what.”

Race was smirking at him, infuriatingly attractive.

“Shut up.”

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

“Stop.”

“C’mon, Al, you can just say it. You think I’m crazy hot and you wanna jump my bones.”

“Stop.”

“Denying it won’t do shit. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

Race’s voice dropped at the last sentence, and Albert was about to lose it.

“Shut the fuck up, Racer. Yeah, we get it, you’re hot and I’m the loser best friend who isn’t and it’s just so fucking obvious, isn’t it, Race? Yeah, I’ll bet they could see from fucking space, how out of my league you are. And, you’re just, what, gonna make fun of me for it? Fuck off, Racer.”

This time, Albert left before Race could stop him. His face was probably as red as the roots of his hair so, instead of heading for the backyard where all his friends were, he searched for the nearest bathroom. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, and he almost didn’t hear footsteps from behind him.

“Wait, Al, I—”

Albert turned around viciously before Race could get the words out.

“You what, Race?”

“I, I was kidding. I didn’t mean it like,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I was being stupid and acting like hot shit, and you’re so, so not out of my league, Al. Like, you’re miles ahead of me and I just,” he swallowed thickly. “I just needed you to know that, I guess.”

His chest was rising and falling, and Race was sure that he could have stood there and stared at Albert for hours. Suddenly, almost by accident, they both surged forward. The kiss wasn’t gentle, or magical. It was rough and violent, all teeth clashing and arms grabbing. But, it was real. It was terrifying, and it was perfect.

After a moment, Race pulled away. Albert had one hand in his curly hair, and the other was grasping at his waist. Race was cradling Albert’s face, looking at him as if to commit his face to memory. Their foreheads touched, and they were both panting a little.

“I, uh, I hope this isn’t too fast, but, I think that I might be a little bit in love with you, Al,” Race breathed out.

Albert laughed, delightedly.

“I’ve been in love with you, for forever, I think. So, no, it’s definitely not too fast.”

Race pecked him once more, gently, and then kissed him again, deeper.

Albert was knee-deep in the danger of him, now, and he was terrified, but he was the happiest he’d ever been. So, what, if it was a little fast? He’d waited long enough. Tortoises were overrated, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> based of these prompts: “I know what you want.” “Stop.” “It’s me, isn’t it? Go on, sweetheart. Say it.” “Stop.” “Denying doesn’t help your case much. I can see it in how you look at me.”  
> Character A hadn’t noticed but their sweet, funny, goofy best friend,Character B, was kind of hot, especially since they’ve been on this fitness kick.  
> follow me on tumblr @racinghiggins for a good time, and thanks for reading!


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